Now I Run
by Tsarina Torment
Summary: Itachi's son mourns his passing.


**Disclaimer: I don't own **_Naruto_**. The song is **_Now I_ _Run_** by Shannon Noll. If you want to read the lyrics, they can be found by Google search.****  
**

Uchiha Heiwa walked round and round and round. He was pacing. Seven years old, and already he knew the pain of a loss. His father, the one that had taught him everything he knew – right and wrong, how to fight – was dead. Killed by his brother. It had been his destiny. His father had explained that it would happen, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. Destiny was inescapable. He didn't know what his would be – the same as his father's? To be killed by his own family? He didn't have a brother, but he had an uncle. An uncle he hated with all his heart. That one day, he might want to kill, just as his uncle killed his father. It was a vicious circle, he knew. A mirror caught his eye, and he looked at it, before recoiling in shock. Until then, he had never realized how much he resembled his father. The same, cold, black eyes with grief locked away somewhere. That was how his father had looked – and that was how he looked.

* * *

Heiwa knew the truth about how his clan had died – his father hadn't kept that from him. The whole truth. All of it. The blackmail, the order, the inescapable mission. Seven years old, just like his uncle had been when he had everything torn away from him. Life was harsh, especially for a shinobi as young as Heiwa. And now his father was dead, there was no-one to protect him. He'd never known his mother – he didn't even know her name. He was pleased that he'd been brought up away from Konoha, away from the discrimination that he would have faced. Away from the stereotype of an Uchiha. His father had brought him up in a manner that meant he was free to live his life how he chose, away from any influences.

* * *

Heiwa walked away from the mirror, away from the image of his father and towards where he knew his destiny would, one day, be waiting for him. Thoughts of revenge flitted through his mind. Kill his uncle. Avenge his father. But then something entered his mind. A feeling of being scolded. Being told that he wasn't to do that. And he knew that it was his father, even now protecting his brother and guiding him.

* * *

Heiwa had to move on with his life, so he did. Fighting in the Great War against Akatsuki – against the organisation that had sent his father to his death. But through all of it, he felt like nothing more than a fake, a copy. Dark hair, identical to his father's. Dark eyes, identical to his father's. Sharingan, like his father. He didn't even have the Mangekyo. He couldn't help who his father had been – he was proud of it – but other people judged him for it. Uchiha Itachi, the traitor. Uchiha Itachi, the clan killer. It was a long time before he heard Uchiha Itachi; the hero. Everyone knew he was his son, and no-one cared. His uncle wouldn't go near him, for some reason, but that was okay. He knew how to live alone. His father had taught him that.

* * *

Heiwa couldn't always cope with it, though. Sometimes the loneliness was just too much and he wanted it to end. He wanted to be back in his father's arms and cry about the injustice of the world. But he couldn't, and that hurt. There was a girl – a girl his age, and she loved him. He wanted to love her, but it wouldn't be right. He couldn't love someone when he was incomplete like this. He couldn't love someone when he couldn't even love himself. But that familiar, nagging, feeling reappeared, encouraging him to just live. If he closed his eyes, he could picture his father smiling at him, telling him that it was alright to love her back.

* * *

Heiwa looked down at the small bundle in his arms and smiled. Uchiha Itachi smiled back up at him. His wife put her arm round him and he knew. He had to be for his son what his father had been for him. He had to support and encourage his son, no matter what.

* * *

Heiwa still thought of himself as a copy though. It didn't matter that his son thought he was the best person in the world – he had thought that about his own father. It didn't matter that he was now accepted by the shinobi communities. His uncle still never spoke to him, ignored his son whenever they passed in the street, but it was okay now. Because they both missed his father and there was nothing they could do about it, except keep living their lives, because that was what he had taught them both as they grew up.

* * *

Heiwa grew to old age, something that his father had never achieved. But he still thought of himself as just a copy. His mannerisms, his jutsu, he had never learnt anything his father hadn't known, and he had never lost his father's looks. His death came suddenly, peacefully. He died in his sleep, running towards the light at the end of the tunnel. Running, because he knew that when he got there, his father would be waiting for him. And he was; Heiwa jumped into his arms, once again the seven year old boy he had been.

* * *

**I started this nearly 4 years ago, and it's finally finished. Can't remember what Heiwa's name means, just that it seemed like a good name when I was 15.**

**Thanks for reading**

**Tsari**


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